A Zest for Murder (Sky High Pies Cozy Mysteries Book 5) (11 page)

CHAPTER
27

An hour later, after Kyle headed
for the Crescent Creek PD station to share the news with Dina and Trent, I was
in the kitchen with Julia.

“Your voice sounds perky,” she said
after we talked about one of the special orders. “But your face says something
completely different. What’s going on?”

“I’ll be fine,” I said, keeping my
eyes on the ball of dough I was kneading.

“That’s not what I asked, Katie. Is
it about Tipper?”

I nodded.

“Something Kyle Gallagher told
you?”

“Yep.”

“Anything you can share?”

“Nope.”

“Are all of your answers going to
be single words now?”

“Maybe.”

She heaved a sigh and poured the
cup of sugar in her hand into the mixer for the batch of scones she was making.

“When you came back to Sky High
from Chicago,” she said after a long silence, “I thought we agreed that secrets
weren’t welcome here.”

I began to work the pie dough with
Nana Reed’s beloved marble rolling pin. “They aren’t. What Kyle Gallagher told
me isn’t about Sky High.”

“Oh, I get it. Secrets are okay if
they’re not about pies and cookies. Isn’t that kind of a double standard?”

I knew she was right. And I also
knew that the reason I didn’t want to divulge Gallagher’s confession was
because it related to an active investigation by the local police. But since
Julia was one of the most trustworthy people I’d ever met, I knew it was safe
to share the information.

“Okay, you’re right,” I said. “But
you have to promise me—”

She quickly moved one hand over her
chest, leaving a powdery trail of flour on her dark blue Sky High T-shirt.
“Cross my heart, Katie.”

I gingerly rolled the crust onto the
marble cylinder and then draped it over the pie tin.

“Kyle thinks his brother kidnapped
Tipper,” I said when I finished. “It’s a long story, but he’s pretty convinced
that Clark—that’s his brother—is holding Tipper for ransom to try and pay off
his debt or get ahead financially.”

“Six of one,” Julia said. “Paying
off debt is getting ahead.”

I smirked at her. “Thank you for
the clarification, Jules.”

“Has he already told Trent?”

“That’s where he was going after he
left here,” I said.

“Is his brother local?”

I thought for a moment. “You know,
I don’t think Kyle specifically mentioned where his brother lives. It sounded
like they’ve got family all over the state; father’s in Pueblo, a sister lives
in Leadville.”

“And how soon are you and he going
to start working together behind the scenes?”

I answered with a laugh first and
then my cheeks turned pink. “You know me too well, Jules.”

“Yep.”

“Do you think I should reconsider
helping Kyle?”

She giggled. “Nope.”

“Could you finish up the last two
orders after we close so I can do some sleuthing?”

The cheery giggle cascaded into a
roaring laugh. “Maybe.”

I left the pie crust I was working
on, darted over to where she stood and gave her a hug. “You’re amazing, Jules!
You make me smile. You make me laugh. And you make me grateful every second of
every day that you’re here at Sky High.”

Once I lowered my arms and stepped
back, Julia furrowed her brow. “Is that the sound of a salary bump coming my
way?”

She delivered the question with
such a comical expression that I felt myself nodding in agreement. “It does
indeed,” I said. “You and Harper have both earned another increase. Not only do
you do an amazing job, but you put up with my lunacy now and then.”

She frowned. “What lunacy?”

“You know—leaving early to do my
amateur detective work,” I said. “Like I plan to do this afternoon after I make
a couple of deliveries and check in with Trent.”

“Oh, shoot! That’s not lunacy by a
long stretch, Katie! That’s you providing a community service to folks in
need.”

CHAPTER
28

Trent looked up from the bowl of
chili on his desk and smirked crossly. When I’d arrived a few minutes earlier,
he was sitting with one arm looped around the spicy stew, as if he was afraid
someone would swoop in and steal it from him. A box of saltines waited nearby,
although I could tell from the crumbs on his shirt that he’d already nibbled a
few of the crunchy crackers before I walked into his office.

“Community service?” he grumbled.
“Did Julia really say that?”

I nodded. “She did. Wasn’t that
sweet?”

He scooped more chili from the
bowl, deposited it in his mouth and chewed contentedly.

“What else is she gonna say?” he
asked when the chomping subsided. “She’s your employee, Katie.”

I could tell he was in full
curmudgeon mode; grouchy and irritable and uninterested in lighthearted
conversation.

“Should I leave?” I asked.

He reached for the crackers.
“Before you tell me why you’re here?”

“I wanted to know how it went with
Kyle Gallagher.”

The spoon hovered above the chili;
trembling slightly as Trent decided which was more important—another scoop of
his meal or telling me about their meeting.

“How do you think it went?” he
asked, putting down the spoon. “He’s got a theory about his brother. We’re
following all the leads we can. And I can’t really say much more than that
about an active investigation.”

“Seriously?”

He winced. “What? You know the
deal, Katie.”

“Of course, I know the deal. We’re
both well aware that I know. So I don’t understand why you’re playing coy.”

His eyes drifted down to the
cooling chili before climbing back up to meet my gaze. “This isn’t coy,” he
said. “This is me discharging my duties as Deputy Chief of the Crescent Creek
PD.”

I got up from the chair and slipped
my purse under one arm. “I’ll see you later, Trent.”

“Whoa! What’s the rush? You just
got here!”

I stopped by the door. “True, but I
can tell you’re in a foul mood.”

“It’s called hunger, Katie. I
haven’t had anything since a stale bear claw that I found in the conference
room this morning.”

I glanced at his trash can. “Then
who ate the KFC?”

He gulped in an anxious breath.
“Uh…” His face turned bright red. “C’mon, Katie! Gimme a break, okay? I’m doing
overtime here, trying to find your friend Tipper. The last thing I deserve is
you busting my chops.”

I turned and walked back to the
chair. “Do I have your attention now?” I asked, sitting on the edge of the
seat. “I’m not trying to waste anybody’s time, yours or mine. I just wanted to
see if you could tell me something about what Kyle Gallagher shared with you
when he stopped by earlier.”

Trent heaved a squelchy sigh. “You
drive a hard bargain, Katie.”

I shook my head. “No, I drive my
dad’s old Ford Taurus. You’re just playing games because you’re in one of
your—” I lifted both hands to make air quotes. “—‘by the book’ snits. I bet you
confided in someone and they betrayed the confidence.”

He grunted and sat back from the
desk. “Bert Dolenz. He asked me what I thought of his new business partner. I
told him the guy seemed shady. And the next thing I know, I’m in line at
Kentucky Fried Chicken this afternoon and the joker’s coming at me like I’m a
bullfighter waving a red cape.”

“Bert told the guy what you said?”

Trent nodded. “Everything. They
were drinking whiskey at The Wagon Wheel the other night, somehow I came up in
conversation. Next thing I know, I’m trying to buy some chicken and—”

I stopped him with one raised hand.
“Yeah, yeah. You’re the bullfighter. And he’s the bull. I got the image, okay?
But I don’t see what that’s got to do with Kyle Gallagher and whatever he told
you about his brother.”

He grabbed the box of saltines and
held it toward me. “Want one?”

“I’m good.”

“Okay, alright,” he muttered,
pulling a few of the pale square crackers from the waxed sleeve. “I suppose
it’s not that big of a deal. I also know that I can trust you.”

I shook my head. “Didn’t feel that
way about ten seconds ago.”

I watched and listened as he
crunched through the saltines and tiny crumbs rained down on his shirt.

“Here’s the deal, Katie.
Gallagher’s brother isn’t a Boy Scout. He’s been in and out of jail since he
was a teenager. At some point, he spent five years in the hoosegow for grand
theft auto.”

“Here in Colorado?”

Trent shrugged. “Does it matter?”

“I was just wondering if he was
local or if—”

“New Mexico,” he interrupted.
“Although he was in juvie in Denver for some burglary nonsense when he was
sixteen or seventeen.”

“Is the truck his?” I asked. “The
one you found in Tipper’s garage?”

Trent shook his head. “No, it was
stolen. Same thing with the tags. The truck’s owner reported the theft to the
Las Cruces PD, and the guy who lost the license plates from his sedan didn’t
even know it until a detective knocked on his door.”

“Had Kyle’s brother met Tipper
before?”

Trent frowned. “Great question, Katie.
I didn’t think to ask when Gallagher was here.”

“Did he say where he was going
next?”

“Who—Kyle?”

I smiled, but didn’t say anything.
The grouchy haze had cleared from Trent’s face, so I knew he was trying to get
my goat.

“I think he was going to the Moonlight,”
Trent said. “He told me that he’s staying at the motel to keep from driving
back and forth to Denver while all of this Tipper stuff is happening.”

“Makes sense.”

Trent scoffed. “That’s about the
only thing in this cockamamie case that does.”

“What’re you talking about?” I
reached across the desk for a saltine. “On the surface, it seems pretty
obvious. Tipper’s mother received a small fortune not long ago in her divorce
settlement. Then Tipper met Gallagher. Then he told his brother about the new girlfriend’s
rich mother. The brother’s in debt up to his frontal lobes, not to mention that
his frontal lobes aren’t exactly firing on all cylinders. He cooks up a scheme
to kidnap Tipper and hold her for ransom, gets the dead woman to come along for
the ride and something goes south before they can get Tipper out of her house.
I don’t see how Dermot Flanagan fits into all of that yet, but I’m pretty sure
he’s involved, too. Could be he’s a friend of Kyle’s brother.”

Trent watched as I nibbled on the
cracker. Then he asked if I wanted some chili.

“No, I’m good,” I said. “But thanks
for the offer.”

He smiled. “Mi casa is your casa,”
he mumbled. “And mi chili is—”

Luckily, Dina Kincaid popped her
head in the door before he had a chance to mangle any more attempts at Spanish.

“Hey, Katie! How’s it going?”

“Fine, detective. How are you?”

The twinkle in her eyes dimmed.
“Crap on a cracker,” she said. “It’s been that kind of week so far.”

I grabbed my purse. “I’ll get out
of the way then,” I said. “Thanks for the info, Trent.”

“Mi zapato is casado,” he said.

I got up and stood by the desk. “I
think you just told me that your shoe is married, Trent. Is that what you meant
to say?”

He blushed. “Oh, gimme a break,
Katie! I’m trying to learn a few phrases before me and Caleb Brown go to a
conference in Puerto Vallarta.”

Dina snickered. “When is it?”

“Next month,” Trent beamed. “You
guys will be freezing in the snow while we dip our toes in the ocean and drink
tequila shots with a bunch of beautiful señoritas!”

I moved closer and brushed the
crumbs from his shirt. “There. Now you’ll look more presentable should a
beautiful señorita come to see you tonight.”

CHAPTER
29

The parking lot at the Moonlight
Motel was nearly empty when I arrived later that afternoon. One dark sedan was
parked near the office, a maroon SUV was in front of a guest room and Earl
Dodd’s weathered Saab occupied its usual spot at the far edge of the asphalt.
Earl and I were high school classmates. When I left Crescent Creek for Chicago,
he stayed behind to help his father run the motel.

“Well, look at you!” he warbled as
I came through the door. “A friendly face for a change!”

I smiled and walked to the counter
where he was swiping at an iPad. “Bad day, Earl?”

“There was a situation,” he answered.
“Involved a middle-aged couple from Boise. I guess they’re taking a road trip
to rekindle their marriage.”

“But things aren’t going so well?”

“Not this morning. We’ve got a
couple thousand dollars worth of damage now in the last room before the vending
machines. They got into a tussle that went on for about an hour. She threw a
chair. He punched the wall. And they both hurled beer bottles at one another.
When the dust settled, we’d lost a television, part of the bathroom vanity and
the desk chair. When you add in replacing the drywall, painting and carpet,
you’re easily looking at a couple grand in repairs.”

I’d seen Earl under trying
circumstances before, but he seemed unusually calm in the wake of the damage to
the motel room. When I told him how well he was handling the incident, he
explained that his new girlfriend was a yoga instructor who’d taught him a few
relaxation techniques.

“Wow! A new girlfriend? I didn’t
know you were seeing someone.”

He shifted on the stool behind the
counter and fidgeted with the iPad. “It’s still pretty new, so…” His voice
cracked. “I mean, you were always so popular and everything, Katie. You had
boyfriends and stuff when we were in school. And that guy in Chicago; the tool
who broke your heart. But I haven’t been so lucky in the love department.”

I nodded. “What’s her name?”

“Penelope. We met on a dating
site.”

“That’s great, Earl! I’m so happy
for you.”

He made a face and looked down at
the counter. Then he said, “Want to see her picture?”

“Sure, of course.”

After he swiped and tapped for a
minute or two, he held up the tablet. The screen was filled with the photograph
of a beautiful woman. She had raven hair, piercing blue eyes and prominent
cheekbones.

“She’s
stunning
,” I said.
“I’d love to meet her sometime. Why don’t you guys come into Sky High for
breakfast or lunch?”

He shrugged. “Penelope doesn’t eat
sugar,” he said sheepishly. “Or carbs.”

I laughed and said we could always
fix her up with a glass of water and a sprig of parsley. Earl’s face brightened
as his brawny laugh filled the room.

“That’s funny, Katie! I’ll have to
tell her tonight when I go for hot yoga.”

From the impish grin on his face, I
couldn’t tell if he was being serious or if that was a euphemism for something
else. I decided to move on to the reason for my visit and ask about Kyle
Gallagher.

Earl’s goofy smile dropped into a
frown. “Who’s that?”

The question momentarily derailed
my train of thought. I watched as Earl guzzled from a can of Mountain Dew. When
he finished I gave him a few details about Kyle Gallagher’s appearance—short
brown hair, pale green eyes and scruff along his jawline—before asking if
anyone fitting the description was registered at the motel.

“Not even close,” Earl said. “It’s
been a really slow week, Katie. So far, besides the couple that trashed their
room, we’ve had a mom and dad with their infant twins, a pair of elderly women
who are in town visiting their brother and a young couple covered in tattoos.”

I considered the information, trying
to comprehend why Kyle Gallagher had apparently misinformed Trent about where
he was staying. Before I could reach a logical conclusion, Earl was asking me a
question.

“…be staying over at Connie’s?” he
was saying. “Lots of people go there if they want a fancy-schmancy place to
sleep while they’re in town.”

“Sorry?” I mumbled, still thinking
about Gallagher’s possible fib.

“Crescent Creek Lodge,” Earl said.
“You know—Connie Larson’s place? She gets some of the business we used to,
especially now that she’s got that splashy new website and a bunch of videos on
YouTube.”

“Oh, right. I just thought…well,
someone told me that Kyle Gallagher was staying here.”

Earl shook his head again. “Nobody
by that name,” he said. “And nobody matching that description.”

I thanked him for the help and
asked about his father.

“He’s doing really well!” Earl
beamed. “He met someone, too.”

From the cheerful grin and lift in
his voice, I could tell my old friend was in better spirits than the last time
we spoke. After his mother passed away, Earl’s father had drifted deeper and
deeper into depression. The last time I saw Mr. Dodd, at the annual book fair
sponsored by the local library, he barely uttered a word.

“That is such great news! How’d
they meet?”

Earl rolled his eyes. “Blanche
Speltzer’s matchmaking service,” he answered. “I didn’t tell my dad that I’d
asked her to fix him up, so it was a little tricky to arrange at first. But we
finally figured out a way to introduce them and they went to Bier Haus for
karaoke night. The rest, as they say, is history!”

“Do you mind if I ask her name?”

He glanced around to make sure the
door to his father’s office was closed. “Gwen Healy,” he whispered. “She’s new
in town; moved from Portland to be closer to her daughter and son-in-law. Her
husband passed away a few years ago, so that’s another thing she and my father
have in common.”

“Well, I think that’s so exciting
for your dad! I hope maybe you’ll bring them both to Sky High sometime for
lunch.”

Earl groaned. “Hollis quit last
week. I’m eating breakfast, lunch and dinner right here, Katie!” He knocked the
countertop with his knuckles. “The only time I get away is for yoga with my
sweetheart. But once I hire a new night manager, I’ll bring dad and his
girlfriend in for some of your grandmother’s Bananas Foster Bread Pudding.
That’s his favorite, so I’m guessing Gwen will like it, too.”

“Sounds like they’re very
compatible.”

He laughed. “Two peas,” he said.
“One pod. I haven’t seen my dad this happy since he and mom went to Las Vegas
and came home with two grand from the nickel slots.”

“Who wouldn’t be happy about that?”

Earl nodded. “Yeah, it was their
last trip together, so it’s an extra special memory.”

We stood together for a moment or
two; I imagined Earl was thinking about his mother while I pictured my late
nana’s crinkly eyes and buoyant smile during our final afternoon together.
She’d passed away years earlier, but I could easily conjure vivid images from
that day whenever she was mentioned or anytime she crossed my mind.

“Yeah, so…” Earl said finally. “I
should probably go back and check on my dad.”

“Sure, of course. Thanks for
letting me ambush you about Kyle Gallagher.”

“You’re always welcome, Katie. I’m
sorry that I couldn’t help you out.”

“Actually, you did. I’ll give
Connie a call and see if maybe he’s staying at the Lodge. There’s always a
chance that he got confused; like, maybe he originally planned to stay here or
actually did at some point in the past.”

“That makes sense,” Earl said,
sliding off the stool where he’d been sitting. “I’ll catch you at Sky High as
soon as I get a new manager to help out around here.”

“Sure thing,” I said, turning for
the door. “And if I hear of anyone—”

My voice stalled when I saw the
fleck of bright green in the wastebasket beside the front door. It was the
second time in as many days that I’d been stopped in my tracks by a discarded
toothpick wrapped in frilly cellophane.

“Hey, Earl?” I asked, turning back
to the front desk.

“Yeah?”

“Do you know who left the toothpick
in the trash?”

The happy-go-lucky grin on his face
softened. “The jerk from Albuquerque,” he grumbled. “He and his tattoo-covered
girlfriend are in Room 24. I wanted to kick them out, but dad says he wants the
revenue.”

I felt a flutter of intuition
somewhere deep inside. “Do you know what they’re driving?”

He bit the inside of his cheek.
“Um, it was a truck,” he said finally. “But I couldn’t tell you if it was a
Dodge or a Chevy or what.”

“Like a new one or—”

“It
was
new,” he said.
“About a million years ago. They were driving an old pickup. It’s seen some
hard miles and taken some heavy hits.”

“Is there a big dent on one side?”

His eyebrows lifted. “You got it!
Do you know those clowns?”

“Not yet,” I said. “But I hope to
make their acquaintance sooner rather than later.”